How the White Trash Zombie Got Her Groove Back (White Trash Zombie 4)

Silence for a second, then, “Jane! It’s Nicole Saber,” I heard clearly, and there was no mistaking the surprise in her voice. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect you to answer. The event ended a short while ago, and I thought I’d call and leave you a message. I was worried after you left so suddenly and wanted to wish you well. I do hope you’re feeling better?”

Jane’s smile was frosty, but none of it showed in her voice. “Why yes. I think it was simply a touch of jet lag. I’ll be right as rain after a good night’s sleep.”

“I’m so glad to hear it. I’d love to take you to an early lunch tomorrow so that we can continue our conversation. Racchelli’s Cucina Italiana at eleven?”

“Lunch would be lovely, but I think my calendar is booked. I’ll check.” She lowered the phone and covered the mouthpiece, looked out the window with zero move to check her calendar.

I made frantic motions. Do it, I mouthed. Yes! Take the lunch!

Jane gave me an Are you inSANE? look, at which time we proceeded to go through a silent yes no yes no back and forth, with me growing increasingly more frantic in my motions.

Finally Jane threw up her hands in defeat and returned the phone to her ear. “It seems my ten o’clock appointment cancelled,” she said. “How fortuitous.”

I grinned in triumph, but Jane simply rolled her eyes, which only made me grin more.

“Excellent,” Nicole all but crowed. “I’ll see you then.”

As soon as Jane hung up I made a couple of fist pumps in the air. “This is perfect,” I said. “She’s going to lay down a threat about hurting Pietro, and we—I mean you—can simply tell her to cut to the chase.”

Comprehension dawned on her face. “Take the wind out of her sails.”

“And then we have the advantage.”

Chapter 22

After nowhere near enough sleep, I once again allowed Naomi to dress me as she pleased, this time in jeans that fit me like a glove, long sleeved black shirt, and boots made for kicking butt. I was almost starting to like being her personal Barbie doll. However, I had a feeling Nicole Saber would probably have a different B word in mind when I showed up uninvited to the lunch meeting.

Since having Jane pick me up at The Fairbourne would be like waving a big flag and shouting, “Yo! Saberton peeps. You can find us right here!” Philip accompanied me to a pre-arranged meeting place near Battery Park, and carefully didn’t laugh when I knocked my breath out on the subway turnstile after I forgot to swipe my MetroCard.

A black sedan with government plates pulled up to the curb only a few minutes after we arrived, and a back window rolled down to reveal Jane. As I moved toward her, a black Escalade that reminded me of Pietro’s vehicles slid in behind the sedan, and I damn near had a heart attack until I caught sight of Victor in the passenger seat. Made sense that Victor would be in a position to keep an eye on everything, and it was likely easier to do so from a shadowing vehicle.

I gave Philip a friendly punch on the arm then jogged to the car. He, Naomi, and Kyle would join up and keep an extra watch outside the restaurant. I slid into the back seat of the sedan, where Jane gave me a warm smile and a quick hug that worked wonders to dispel the last little niggling doubts I had about spilling the beans to her about the whole zombie thing. She still liked me, even though I ate brains. That was pretty cool.

As if by mutual agreement, we kept the conversation light and generic on the way to the restaurant. There’d be plenty of time for the serious shit later. And I decided it was a good thing the driver knew where to go, because I’d have gone past the restaurant at least ten times and never found it. Tucked behind another building, it definitely wasn’t the sort of place that got a lot of tourist traffic. To get there it was necessary to walk through a narrow but tidy courtyard and then down a staircase to a dark red door that opened into a café of about a dozen tables and some amazingly appetizing smells. With black and white tiled floor, wood chairs, and white tablecloths, it reminded me a bit of the Italian-American restaurant in The Godfather where Michael kills Sollozzo, and I had to fight the urge to go and check the restrooms for hidden guns. Silly, because I was quite sure Victor had plenty of his own with him, and the two tough-looking men in dark suits against the back wall surely had theirs as well.

And, in a twist that really didn’t surprise anyone, every table was empty except for the one right in the center of the restaurant. Nicole sat on the other side of the table in a dark red suit paired with a gold-colored blouse. S

he leaned back and crossed her legs, very obviously trying to appear calm and relaxed, though the quick tap-tapping of her fingers on the side of her leg showed the true state of her nerves.

For her part, Jane looked cool and collected and not at all as if everything that was on the line was, actually, on the line. I did my best to look as cool as her and finally settled for being absolutely amazed that she looked as chill as she did. My gaze roamed the restaurant and over Nicole’s two men, then snapped back to the one on the right. Fairly good-looking, jet-black hair, wide shoulders, and narrow waist. Too far away to see his what color his eyes were, but I could tell that the eyebrows above them were perfect.

Motherfuckingshitballs. This was one of my guards from when Charish held me captive, one of the assholes who’d helped McKinney strip search me. His eyes met mine, and his mouth curved in an ugly smirk. A sick chill went through me, but I deliberately rolled my eyes and looked away as if he wasn’t worth my attention. Which he wasn’t, of course. Asshole. I shoved the memories aside and focused instead on the awesome smackdown about to take place.

Nicole smiled at Jane, but her smile froze at the sight of me. I fought down a manic grin and instead smiled back without showing teeth. There’d be plenty of time for teeth later, I figured.

With me right behind her, Jane approached the table, but instead of taking the seat the maitre d’ held out, she leaned forward, eyes locked on Nicole’s. “We both know why we’re here,” she said with quiet force.

Oh, this was going to be fun. I pulled a chair from another table and stuck it to the right of the one the poor maitre d’ was still holding, plopped down, then grabbed a breadstick from the basket on the table and took a bite.

Smile still fixed and disgust thinly masked, Nicole’s flicked her focus to me before shifting it back to Jane. “Of course. We’re discussing your support for Saberton to be awarded the defense contract.”

“Discussing? No,” Jane said. “You intend to threaten to hurt or even kill Pietro in order to force my cooperation.”

That caught Nicole off guard. She lost the smile, expression tightening. “Will you at least sit?” She hissed the last word.

Jane turned and graciously thanked the poor maitre d’, then took her seat as if it had been completely her idea. I resisted the urge to lean back and put my feet on the table. That would probably get me kicked out, but damn I had a feeling this was going to get good.

Nicole took a deep breath as Jane sat, regaining a tiny bit of composure. “Congresswoman Pennington, would you care to explain your unexpected comment?”